


The Specifics

by seoyoff



Series: who let these kids have a youtube channel [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: And kinda wanted to add marliza but maria just didn't show up for some reason, I wanted to add more mullette, I'm such a slow writer this started on july 9th lmaoo, M/M, Mild Language, One Shot, Youtuber AU, anyway enjoy the fic, shitty writing warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 17:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15417798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoyoff/pseuds/seoyoff
Summary: inspired by freesmooches' youtuber au





	The Specifics

**Author's Note:**

> alright kids this is my first fic on ao3 and it's not even original here's to a wild frickin' ride

“I dare you to tweet exactly what I want you to.”

They’re playing truth or dare, pleasantly tipsy on whatever cheap beer that Herc picked up, and laughing their collective asses off at some meme that Laf found. The air is warm with body heat and laughter, John and Alex’s two couches stuffed with their friends. Well, Peggy’s doing a starfish sprawl, halfway underneath the coffee table, and chuckling at Herc’s dare to John, who squawks indignantly, but opens up Twitter anyway. Herc leans over to whisper in John’s ear, smirking all the while. Is John suspicious? Obviously, but whatever Herc wants him to Tweet can’t be that bad.

“If y’all get me to one million, I’ll kiss Alex. Winky face.” Herc whispers. John blushes because it’s worse than he thought, but he tweets it out anyway. Only losers back out from dares and John Laurens is  _not_ a loser.

Soon enough, a notification pops up on Alex’s phone, which everyone crowds around instantly, before laughing loudly, because they're all drunk at this point, and it's only right that they laugh at John's misery.

“Capitalize on the shippers!” Laf slurs and falls back into Herc's arms. The tweet fades from John’s memory as the rest of the night continues, which ends up including Angelica definitely tearing something as she tries to do the splits and Alex accidentally throwing his entire pack of hair ties into the toilet. All in all, it’s a good night, which usually means lots of regrets in the morning, but tipsy John doesn’t have cognitive thinking abilities anyway, so consequences be damned, he's going to drink Peggy under the table.

 

* * *

 

John wakes up with hair in his mouth, a headache, and pining for the lack of regrets he had last night. He spits the hair out, hair which belongs to- _of course._

“You guys are cute.” Eliza snickers, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. John groans, mostly because of his headache, but also because of the onslaught of shippers that would come from Eliza posting the picture. The shippers weren’t a problem, both of them could care less-it’s just the fact that they’re sometimes dangerously close to the truth. He takes a moment to look down at Alex, who had wrapped his arms around John in an undeniably adorable fashion. _What a dick._

It’s not that John didn’t like Alex being adorable, but if his heart stopped doing a gymnastics routine every time they touched, or when Alex smiled, or went on a rant, or did anything really, it would help an awful lot.

“I’m taking a shower.” He mutters, gently moving Alex so that he doesn’t wake up. After a moment’s hesitation, he pokes at his shoulder, searching for a binder seam, and sighing softly in relief when he didn’t find one. Alex tended to forget about taking care of his ribs and lungs-forgot to take care of himself period, but it looked like someone had shoved him off to the bathroom before he fell asleep. Ignoring Eliza’s smug grin, he trudges off to the bathroom.

After a shower and some ibuprofen, John felt marginally better, wandering to the kitchen in search of breakfast. Angelica was manning the stove, which made him feel safer about the overall state of his apartment, seeing as there were still scorch marks on the ceiling from where Lafayette had tried to put out a grease fire with _water_. He grabbed some waffles from the table, pulling out his phone to check Twitter.

_Well._

Not a big deal, it wasn’t as if he would reach a million anytime soon,

 

“Hey y’all, today we’re going to murder Hercules.” Alex laughs in the background, while Herc shoves his way into the frame with a cheeky grin. The Schuyler's and Maria have already left, with Herc and Laf just about to leave. Alex makes grabby hands for the camera, which John complies with because he really can’t say no. “We’re going to the animal shelter, because John doesn’t like to admit it, but he volunteers twice a week. It goes against his whole, ‘I’m a bad boy’ aesthetic, but we all know he’s a big softie.” John groaned, because the whole, ‘precious cinnamon roll’, vibe that his fans seemed to like putting on him just didn’t make  _sense_. He was reckless, swore frequently, and had an arrest record a mile long, so why was it that his reputation was… That?

“Like hell it goes against my vibe, that’s why I didn’t tell anyone.” John punches Alex in the shoulder, causing a squeak from the shorter man. The camera is dropped onto the floor, capturing an out-of-focused wrestling match between the two. Typical.

The scene cuts to Alex sitting on a bench, eating grapes in a rather sad manner. He swallows the grape he’s currently chewing on before facing the camera directly.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve been cruelly kicked out into the July heat by none other than John himself. Cinnamon roll my ass you guys, your precious freckled baby not only forced me to eat something, ‘healthy’, but when we got to the shelter told me to sit in the main hallway, because grapes are deadly to dogs or something. Well John, did you ever consider just letting me not eat grapes? You know I think eating’s a waste of time. C’mon man.” Alex pouts, finishing off his last grape and walking back into the shelter. Truthfully, John hadn’t forced him out into the July heat-Alex had walked outside in protest, but it wasn’t like they’d connect the dots.

Maybe.

“Get ready kids, it’s time to find John and pet the shit out of some dogs.” He grins, and the frame swaps once again, this time to a St. Bernard standing on top of John’s back. The dog plants a sloppy kiss on John’s bun, which he’s going to hate, but he’s probably already forgiven the dog. John himself is face planted into the grass, surprisingly quiet as the dog keeps sniffing around his neck. Alex finds himself being jealous of the dog, which is totally rational because any human being would love to be that close to John Laurens.

“Guys, I can’t believe John Laurens is fucking dead.” Alex deadpans. John looks up with an annoyed groan, shooting a glare at the camera.

“Can you not be useless-oof Steve, shove  _off_ -and get him off of me? Pick up that tennis ball next to your foot and throw it."

“First of all, is that any way to treat your boyfriend?” Alex teases, ignoring the jump in his chest-they weren’t actually dating, but it was fun to pretend for the sake of the shippers, and  _definitely not_ Alex’s selfish fantasies. “Secondly, _Steve_?”

John wrinkles his nose in an attempt to hide his blush. Goddamnit Alex. “I’m just as confused about the name as you are, shithead that I’m not dating. Just get him off, the grass is itchy and I have to sign out soon.” Alex sighs, picking up the ball and throwing it. “Soon you’ll admit to your subscribers that we’ve been secretly engaged for 3 years.”

Steve bounds off after the ball, causing John to lose his wind, but as he sits up and dusts himself off, nobody misses the fond look that he shoots off at the St. Bernard. Alex can’t help but smile too, but more so directed at John than the dog.

 _What an asshole._ Alex’s heart is supposed to belong in his chest, not the star-speckled hands of a reckless, beautiful boy who would keep the sky from caving in for a stranger, give up his life for his friends.

 

Shit, he was getting poetic.

Oh well.

 

It’s a week later, and John’s getting more nervous by the hour. His subscriber counts suddenly exploded, and he has a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the tweet that Herc made him send out. Alex and John joke about it on camera, but they both partake in freaking out on John’s bed behind the scenes. They power through, though, posting a video in the late hours of the night of John staring despairingly at his subscriber count moving up in rapid waves. It’s during one of these casual breakdown sessions that Alex, the genius he is, comes through with a loophole.

“Tweet never specifies where you kiss me, right? So you could totally just kiss my hand or something, and it would be valid.”

“You’re a fucking genius.”

“I know.”

“Not enough of a genius that you actually take care of yourself though, go eat something other than a granola bar.”

“Fuck you.”

"Love you too.”

Was that too weird? Did saying, ‘Love you’, go into platonic, no homo conversations? Probably not, but John’s too occupied as Alex goes on a rant to him as they make dinner. It’s interrupted by frankly  _delicious_ grilled cheese and picks back up again after as they settle on the couch for a Star Wars marathon.

John hits a million that night, and he meets Alex’s gaze with a genuine smile. It’s a success that he didn’t dream of meeting, and the outcome of this whole-kissing situation is better than he thought it would be. Overall, he couldn’t be luckier that he had Alex at his side for such an accomplishment. John’s phone buzzes unexpectedly, and they both jump in surprise.

 

From HUNKules:

 

congrats on getting 1M, go kiss his ass.

 

To HUNKules:

 

fuck off

 

“Let's start planning.” Alex mutters into his shoulder.

 

“Hell yeah.”

 

They both agree that they should do it somewhere dramatically romantic area, to prank the viewers a little more than necessary-Alex wouldn’t Alex without being a little needlessly dramatic. They decide on the promenade in the East Village, about a 10-minute walk from their apartment. The morning of is met with protests from both sides, although Alex is more vocal than John.

“It’s not morning yet John, it’s still dark as shit outside. Why are we up?” Alex mutters into his sweatshirt, clutching his coffee mug and blinking the sleep from his eyes. John rolls his eyes, ignoring how his heart flutters at the sight. “Stop complaining, asshole. You’re the one that wanted to get up this early.”

Alex mumbles that usually, he would’ve just been up by default if _someone_ hadn’t forced him to go to bed last night. He earns a noogie for his troubles.

The walk to the promenade is peaceful if a bit chilly. Alex, at his own insistence, is carrying the tripod, while John has the camera hanging from his neck. They’re both quiet. It’s unusual for the pair, but it’s the kind of morning that sings to your skin, makes you thoughtful and tranquil, forget your troubles and enjoy just being _alive._ It’s not something John feels often, with his, well, depression. Alex says he should start admitting it to himself more. It’s been a good month, overall, and he would stay here, in this moment, forever if given the choice. They reach the promenade, and he’s almost disappointed, but the moment swings to another and Alex pulls the camera off his neck, pressing the record button with a smug grin.

“Alright kids, John reached a million last night, and we all know what he promised he’d do when he hit a million.” Alex taps his lips, mischief glinting in his eyes. John rolls his eyes playfully, taking the camera and setting it up on the tripod.

“Yeah, yeah. We get it, Alex, you can’t wait to get a piece of these luscious lips.”

"Nobody would want your crusty lips, John, it looks like you haven’t used chapstick in the last ten years.” Alex sticks his tongue out, ignoring the part of his mind that said _yes please, on a regular basis preferably._

They make sure they’re in frame, standing in front of the fence, the sun rising behind them. Despite their joking around, the air is a weird mixture of knowing this is a joke, but they’re standing so close together that it’s tense anyway. John tucks a piece of hair behind Alex’s ear, laughing awkwardly. _God, it’s just a prank, calm your tits._ They lean in, and then,

John drops onto one knee and _kisses his hand._

Of course, Alex is expecting it, seeing as they planned it all out, but he’s still _slightly_ disappointed. Nonetheless, he pretends to swoon, catching John’s gaze. _Yep, still gorgeous. Still a dickhead._

Twin grins align their faces, ignoring how fast how their hearts are beating and praying to every divine entity that the dawn light hides their blushes. John stands back up, does a little bow with Alex. “Thanks for watching, kids!” The camera is shut off, they’re done.

“That’s… Anticlimactic.” John rubs the back of his neck. Alex folds up the tripod, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, let's go get ice cream to celebrate.”

“For breakfast?”

“Hell yeah.”

 

They get yelled at later by a lot of people, but at least they're in it together.


End file.
